


Somebody That I Used to Know

by noblydonedonnanoble



Series: It's Only Natural [4]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-08
Updated: 2012-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-03 07:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/378784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/noblydonedonnanoble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You never wanted to see David again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

                You never wanted to see David again. Of course, life almost never goes the way you want it to, and you find yourself stuck in a room with him far too soon.

                There are other people there. Enough so that he can try to catch your eye from across the room and you can quite easily avoid it.

                What you can’t avoid is the fact that you’re going to be acting with him. Playing the romantic lead beside him. And, it occurs to you, eventually you will be kissing him on stage in front of the rest of the cast, and then in front of an audience.

                Nobody can tell that you feel uncomfortable with him. Except, of course, David. He looks at you with more and more concern as you go longer without speaking with him, but he does nothing to try and get you to loosen up. This, in and of itself, makes you feel even more uncomfortable. Of course, this leads to him showing even more concern.

                You start to tell yourself that perhaps you’ll be able to spend the entire play avoiding him. It’s not what you'd _like_ to do; every day when you see him, you feel slightly more tempted to talk to him. Sometimes something funny happens, and you catch his eye and smirk before remembering yourself. And, more importantly, remembering him.

                No doubt you’re confusing him. Hell, you’re confusing yourself, though you’re careful to keep him from seeing that.

                On the first day when you have to kiss him, you feel certain that you’ve braced yourself. You can be professional. Yes. Of course. Most definitely.

                But then he’s pulling you too close and you’re practically melting in his arms and it terrifies you and you break away and run out of the room and down the hall. As soon as you turn a corner you slide down against a wall, hugging your legs to your chest as soon as you’re sitting.

                You hear David coming. You know it’s him, that he would insist on coming to look for you alone. It occurs to you that you could leave, but you don’t bother. You don’t really want to.

                He sits down next to you, and for the longest time you’re both silent. Finally, though, he speaks. “Hello Catherine.”

                “Hi David.”                             

                “This is the first time you haven’t run away from me.”

                “There’s still time.” You allow yourself to look at him and smile before returning to your attempted indifference.

                “Catherine, why are you doing this?”

                “Because you’re getting married.”

                “You’re punishing me for getting married?” The simultaneous pain and disbelief in David’s voice kills you.

                No no no. Why is it that he understands so much, but doesn’t understand this? You shake your head emphatically. “No David, I’m punishing myself.”

                You chance a look at him, and hate how bemused he looks. “You’re punishing yourself? For what?”

                “Because every time I look at you, I think about… before.” You feel yourself growing warm, but when you glance at him you can see his face is tinted pink as well. “And I shouldn’t.” Your voice goes quiet. “I shouldn’t miss it, but I do.”

                David inhales sharply. Your face is positively burning now and you avoid looking at him because depending on his expression, you might not be able to look away. “Catherine… You haven’t talked to me about anything except the weather and television for over a year. Why are you telling me this?”

                “You asked.”

                “You ended it.”


	2. Chapter 2

                The matter-of-fact way in which he says this startles you. You were trying so hard to skirt around the subject, but he squashes that notion completely. Now, though, you figure you might as well take his lead. “Yes. I ended it, whatever _it_ was.”

                “I’m not the one whose life was so full of complications. You’re the one who said we were just having some fun, that I was better off without you, that you had someone in your life who you didn’t want to hurt… I could go on for hours listing your reasons for _not_ defining our relationship and now you’re telling me that you _miss_ it?”

                Back then, you would have yelled at him for saying all of this. Your feelings are still hurt, but you know everything that he’s saying is true. “David, you _are_ better off without me, don’t you see that? I wasn’t willing to do anything but give you excuses. I hated the way I was hurting you.”

                “Catherine. Look at me.” You do, against your better judgment. He’s gazing at you, once more, with concern, and you hate him for being concerned about you when he really should be angry. “You were so worried about what’s good for me? Why didn’t you ask _me_ what’s best for me?”

                You swallow. You consider not answering. You consider running. As though reading your mind, he takes ahold of your hand—not tightly, per se, but tight enough that he’s clearly telling you he will stop you from leaving if you try. For about thirty seconds, you stay silent, and he holds your gaze the whole time. “David… I was terrified. I’m so in love with you and if I had told you, you would have talked me out of it in two seconds.”

                He stares at you, for so long that you’re concerned that he didn’t hear you or he’s somehow _broken_. You feel like any second he could slap you, or stand up and walk away, or laugh at you.

                You most certainly don’t expect him to kiss you, but that’s precisely what happens. His hands cup your face so that you can’t pull away, but even though you have thoughts of he has a fiancée and a child on the way and dear God you’re such a horrible person you don’t even consider pulling away.

                When he pulls away his hands stay on your face, and his expression is so pained you almost want to start kissing him again. “You said you _are_ in love with me.”

                “No I didn’t.” Yes you did. You did and you’re aware of it but you’re hoping you can brush it off as nothing because God you just told an engaged man that you’re in love with him and what kind of human being with any sense—because clearly you have so much—does that?

                “God damn it Catherine!” He runs a hand through his hair and you kind of want to run a hand through his hair yourself but you push down the urge since this is not exactly the time. “For once, I just wish you would tell me what’s on your mind. You’re acting like I don’t _know_ you. I probably know you better than anybody else, Catherine, don’t you realize that?”

                “Don’t _you_ realize that’s why you’re so terrifying?” You’re breathing fast now and return to your initial position, clinging tightly to your knees.

                David starts to rub your back. Now he’s barely whispering. “Catherine, I’m sorry.”

                “No David, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was scared. I’m sorry I took away my chance.”

                He ponders this statement for some time, the whole time rubbing your back and occasionally stroking your hair. “I love you. I hope you know that.”

                “Yes.” For a moment, you pause, thinking. “What would you have done if I had told you that I loved you? What would have happened?”

                It appears, for a moment, like he’s going to avoid the question. “If you told me you _loved_ me? Jesus Catherine, I would have married you in a second.”

                “That’s totally not what I needed to hear.”

                “But it’s true. And I think the truth is what you need to hear.”

                Again, he’s right. Why is he always right? He’s good at that, being right, and you hate it. It makes you angry that he knows you this well. “David.”

                “Catherine.”

                “Why did you kiss me?”


	3. Chapter 3

                “Because… because I love you. Because it was better than hitting you. Because I’ll have to be kissing you quite a bit. Because I wanted to. I don’t know. Does it matter?”

                “ _Does it matter?_ You’re getting married to another woman and you kissed me and told me you love me so I think yes maybe it matters.”

                You wonder if maybe he wishes that he hadn’t followed you. He seems so upset and confused, and you know that you’re the one who’s doing this to him—because this is what you’ve always done. And he confuses you just as much. He’s moved away from you slightly and is pointedly avoiding your eyes. “Yes. I’m getting married.”

                “So why did you kiss me?”

                “I suppose…” He pulls a pen out of his pocket and begins clicking it repeatedly. You let him fidget, although you hate the sound of it. “I suppose maybe I wanted another chance to do it under my own terms, not because we’re in rehearsal or on stage.”

                “Because you love me.”

                “Because I love you. But because I’m getting married to somebody else.”

                You can’t help but start to imagine what your life could have been like, if. You hate that if, the way you can already feel it weighing you down. It will only get worse. You feel tempted to jump out of his life entirely, so that you won’t have to feel a sting every time he tells you a joke or smiles at you or touches you.

                “Don’t run away from me, Catherine. Please.” This comes out at a whisper, and David looks so pathetic all slumped over that you really want to hug him. You keep your distance, though, just as he kept his distance from you when you were in a similar position. “You disappeared with no excuse but now… I don’t want you to cut me off. You, I know, don’t want to lose me. The only reason you’d leave is that you think it’s best for me.”

                “Isn’t it?” It is, too. You can see it on his face.  You know from the way that having a private conversation with you has sent his mood changing every ten seconds.

                He laughs. Actually laughs. This pulls him out of that pathetic shell completely and he grabs your hand. “For a second, don’t think about what is best for me. I want you around. Do you want to be around?”

                No. You don’t want to watch him building a life with someone else and you don’t want to be wondering what things would be like if he was building that life with you instead and you don’t want to forever wonder who he’d rather be with or if he’s remembering this kiss and all of your other kisses every time he sees you. But somehow, you still blurt out, “Yes.” Because you want to see him grin every time you walk into a room and you want to call him up randomly and know that you’re making his day and you don’t want to lose a best friend you also just so happen to love.

                David’s grin is wider and more genuine than you’ve ever seen.


	4. Chapter 4

                Sometimes when you’re together, you forget about a fiancée and a child, but you can also forget about how the two of you used to be. For a while, anyway, until an accidental bumping of knees or a reference to an old inside joke sends you reeling. You can see that sometimes he remembers too. Every night on stage, for a moment after you separate from your kiss you can see in his eyes that he wants to jump at you again immediately, until he remembers himself. You know, though, that your eyes hold that same desperation.

                After a while, it does take its toll on you, as you knew it would. You find yourself having to keep your distance from him constantly, because you start to worry that if you move even barely too close to him, you’ll want to keep moving closer. Judging from the way he sometimes allows himself to look at you, he might not stop you either.

                You only really come anywhere close to letting go when you’re on stage. The two of you throw everything into your performances because that’s all you have left and you both know it. With each passing night, people say your performances become more genuine, but it’s mostly just that you can see the clock ticking away and you put even more energy into running when Beatrice is running from Benedick and more energy into kissing him when Beatrice at last completely gives in. With each performance, you look at him more longingly, and you’re pretty certain that if you’re not careful, this play is going to ruin you. 

                But despite everything going on in your head, around him you’re happy. You laugh and tease him and he teases you and sometimes, on very rare occasions, you let yourself hug him or reach out and take his hand just for the hell of it. Every hug, he holds you close, and every time you grip his hand he squeezes tight.

                Sometimes, he comes to your dressing room with you before the show, talking to you until the last possible moment before he has to go to his own room to change. He confides in you all of his secrets, telling you about thoughts that have entered his mind that you doubt he’s ever voiced out loud before. It astonishes you how much he trusts you after the way you ran from him before, and you can’t help being a bit worried by the way he trusts you so eagerly, so blindly.

                You trust him, though. Not with your heart, because he already holds somebody else’s. But with essentially everything else.

                It occurs to you that you could walk away as soon as the show is over, because you know you’re a distraction to him. You can see quite clearly that he would be better off, and when all is said and done that’s most certainly what you want—for him to be better off, whether you’re in his life or out of it. But you don’t really want to run away. And every time you even vaguely consider it, you remember his expression when he told you that he wanted you around, and the notion completely leaves you.

                All of a sudden it’s closing night and you’re hyper aware of every single second passing because dear God as soon as this is over it’s _over_ and you don’t want it to end but this whole time you’ve known that it has to. Beatrice and Benedick are so very in love and time Benedick touches Beatrice, you feel a shiver go down your spine. Benedick’s cheeky grins feel less for Beatrice and more for you. And when, at last, Beatrice and Benedick kiss, David pulls you so, so close. When he pulls away, you’re glad for how over-the-top Beatrice is supposed to react because dear God that’s how you legitimately feel.

                David follows you to your dressing room after the show, beaming from ear to ear and talking about how that was the most fantastic performance yet. When you reach your door and he makes no move to head to his _own_ room, you give him a look. “You should go change, you know. We need to finish up at the stage door so that we can go to the cast party, David.”

                He waves this off. “So we spend a bit less time out there. Oh well.”

                If you had any sense, you would tell him _No, not oh well_ , and shoo him away, but you’re not really feeling full of sense at the moment. The two of you just had your last performance and you’re still reeling from your kiss and your dancing and the standing ovation the two of you received. A well-deserved standing ovation, at that, because no doubt the audience felt the raw emotion radiating from the stage. And so, for all of those reasons (plus a little something that you really can’t define, or perhaps don’t want to), you allow him to follow you into the room.


	5. Chapter 5

                You shut the door and immediately he’s pressing you against it, kissing you with more ferocity than he ever has before. Your back is pressed directly into the doorknob, but you ignore it because with his mouth on your neck, your back is not exactly your biggest concern.

                David’s hands ghost across your torso, traveling around in an oh so familiar and far too comfortable fashion. In your mind, you’re screaming, although you wouldn’t be able to say whether it’s because you’re overjoyed or because dear God why can you never remember when it’s most important that he’s _engaged_ and shouldn’t you stop this? Yes, of course you should, but instead of stopping him you’re only pulling him closer and running your hand through his hair.

                It’s as though you’re watching the two of you, not actually a participant in what’s happening. He pulls away from you for a second with a small smile, but not for long enough for you to even start to think.

                And then you see yourself tugging his jacket off and throwing it to the floor, reaching up and fumbling at the buttons of his shirt. This sight jolts you so suddenly back into yourself and you pull away, gasping, every cell in your body burning as you squeeze past him as you turn away from him and stare at the floor.

                “Catherine?” The incredible amount of concern in his voice kills you, as it always does. You can feel him fidgeting behind you as though he’s inches away, though you know you pulled yourself farther away and he hasn’t moved. He wants to, though, you know it, and he’s fighting every urge to reach out to you.

                “David… Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

                You turn to look at him and almost wish you hadn’t, because you feel yourself losing your resolve slightly at the sight of his mussed hair—which you know is all because of you—and his shirt, which you’d succeeded in pulling completely loose before you stepped away. “I rarely have any idea what I’m doing when it comes to you.” He says it lightly, but the words sting you. It should be flattering, perhaps, but how can you take it that way when tonight when you leave the theatre, everything has to change. And with him talking that way, it doesn’t sound like they’re going to.

                What if you’ve ruined him? What if he’s going to go through the rest of his life unhappy? You doubt it, just a little; you think eventually he would accept what is and forget you, perhaps a bit more quickly than either of you would like to imagine. But what if now, at one of the most important times of his life, he is ruined?

                “And that’s good, eh? Letting your inhibitions go…” You walk forward, unable to stop yourself. You reach up and stroke his cheek gently, a small smile crossing your lips momentarily. “Because so much can happen when you let your inhibitions go.”

                David’s eyes lock onto yours, and he swallows. “Perhaps good things come out of lowered inhibitions.”

                “No. Not good things. Just things that you’ll regret almost immediately afterwards.”

                Finally, now, he reaches up and brushes your hair away from your eyes as he murmurs, so quietly you can hardly hear, “How could I ever regret anything about you, Catherine?”

                “You would,” is all you can say back while still holding eye contact. But then his gaze feels far too strong and if you don’t look away you’re certain you’ll be sucked into them instead, so you flinch and turn your eyes downward. “David, you should be wanting to go home to your fiancée right now.”

                “But what if tonight I want to go home with you instead?”

                The words make you shiver. When his hand reaches out and lifts your chin so that you’re making eye contact again, your logical side, the side of you that wants what’s best for David, has to push down the very large, very real urge to throw caution to the wind and skip the stage door. Skip the cast party. Even skip changing into street clothes. Just run outside and get the nearest cab. Pay the cabbie however much necessary for them to break enough traffic laws to get to your flat in under five minutes. And then drag David upstairs and do some unimaginable things with him. In an instant, you weigh the positives and negatives of following through, not even considering whether he would agree or not, and immediately stumble upon the large roadblock of _It’s not good for David_. You dismiss the idea so quickly it’s as though it never existed.


	6. Chapter 6

                So you keep a strong hold on his eyes as you say, “David, do you know how hard this is on _me_?” Those were not the words you were planning on saying. You were planning on talking about _his_ well-being. But you continue, because now that the words have started coming out of your mouth you have no idea how to stop them. “I was finally starting to forget. And the very first second when you walked through that door, you stole my heart again like it was nothing.”

                He doesn’t seem to know how to respond to this, and he has to break eye contact with you as he looks away. “I didn’t… I don’t want to hurt you, Catherine.”

                “You’re not hurting me! This is all because of things that I did. I fall asleep every night asking myself a billion ‘What if’s because of what I did, not because of anything you’ve done.”

                “ _So do I_.” David suddenly sounds angry, although you wouldn’t be able to say if he’s angry with you or angry with himself. He steps away from you and starts pacing a few steps back and forth, staring at the ground. “ _I lie awake for hours_ thinking about what could have happened if I hadn’t started to fall in love with someone else or if I hadn’t let you leave so easily or if you hadn’t tried to leave in the first place and it’s driving me absolutely _insane_.” He stops abruptly in front of you and takes your hand, holding it tightly. “I hate myself for loving you, Catherine. I’m betraying every moral fiber of my being but I can’t _stop_ and I should want you gone so that maybe I could get over it but I never got over it before so how the hell could I imagine that I could get over it now? The idea of you _not_ being in my life is terrifying. So stop trying to tell me that you’re not good for me. You are everything to me.”

                Your scenario in which you bring him to your flat is, once again, tempting you. Kissing him senseless is a more immediate danger. To stop yourself, you have to talk. Say _anything_. “I shouldn’t be.” You consider saying you don’t _want_ to be, but you don’t want to lie, especially because you know he wouldn’t believe it anyway. You frown slightly. “I love you, David. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. I don’t want you to ruin anything because of me.”

                “I’m not going to ruin anything. Our lives are the way they are, and I’m not going to fight that. The rest of my life is flying at me at high speed, and unfortunately you’re not a part of that. I can’t wake up next to you every morning and I can’t fall asleep next to you every night.”

                You’re not sure whether this is rhetorical or not, and you decide to let it sit in the air because it’s a statement that definitely deserves thought. You look him up and down and after a moment reach out and start fixing the buttons of his shirt. Your eyes are focused on your fingers, and you know he’s watching their progress too. The moment feels more intimate than any interaction you’ve ever had with him. Your fingertips brush his skin as you work your way up.

                “Let’s get changed. Let’s go to the stage door. Maybe we can even grace those at the cast party with our presence. And then…”

                “And then?” There’s suddenly a teasing tone to David’s voice and it makes you smile a little.

                “And then…” You reach the last button and pull his collar down carefully. For the first time in a long time, you give him a genuine smile—not as Beatrice, not something resembling a smile to appease him or in response to some joke, but a full smile that is completely you. “We’ll see where the night leads us.”

                Both of you already know that you’re on the verge of breaking, with that statement alone.

                David kisses you, but it’s a soft, gentlemanly kiss that lasts for far too short a time and leaves you wanting more. You know this is intentional, and you turn away until he’s picked up his jacket and left the room. If you look at him, you might not be able to let him leave.


	7. Chapter 7

                Long after David has left, you’re still horribly flushed, and you’re not sure you want to go outside and have him see the effect he’s had on you.

                You could leave now. Skip the stage door and flee. Because after all, you’re very good at running away.

                While he was in the room, he somehow stopped you from worrying about him. Now that he’s gone, though, you’re once again becoming aware of how much drama you’re adding to his life. And you don’t want to be a complication. If you’re someone he can’t imagine his life without, perhaps it’s more evidence that you shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t have come back in the first place.

                But you don’t want to go now. Even though David is your most _prominent_ concern, for the first time he isn’t your _deepest_ concern. You want a single night where he can be yours, even if afterward he’ll belong to someone else.

                This is the thought that eventually draws you outside.

                He’s pulling you into a cab to get to the cast party in what seems like a matter of seconds. When you’re in the private space, he casts several glances in your direction, but for the most part you have a polite conversation about the weather (he tells you it’s going to rain later, and you actually let him see you smirk because dear Lord you’re talking about the _weather_ ), a movie of his that’s coming out soon in which he apparently wears a lot of leather (you make a mental note to try to go to the premiere), and eventually the fact that your hair keeps sparkling under every streetlight (which only makes you blush again).

                As soon as you get in the door, he goes in the direction of the bar, and you take the opportunity to lose him because you’re not sure if you can handle standing at his side.

                He takes the hint, or perhaps feels the same, because for quite some time, no matter where you go he always seems to be on the other side of the room. It pains you that he’s so… David. He knows what’s on your mind without you having to say it, but he always wants you to say it anyway.

                Every time you glance over at him, he notices and smiles, and every time you ask what the hell you were thinking to ever run away from him. You hate your past self for being terrified of what made you happy.

                After a while, you sit down in a chair right near a window and look out at the city, all lit up. It doesn’t really surprise you when, within two minutes, David plops down in the chair across from you.

                You smile slightly at him. “Evening David.”

                “Catherine! Fancy meeting you here.”

                “Oh yes,, it’s a one in a million chance.” The two of you grin, both finding it far more amusing than it really should be.

                “How has your evening been?”

                Your tone grows more serious. “Good. I’ve been saying my goodbyes to people already.” He’s watching you very closely, and before you can think better of it you say, “I missed you, David. Before.”

                “I know.” And he does, you can tell. “You’re not going to run away from me again, are you?”

                There’s another, more indirect question on his mind, and you hear it loud and clear.  

                The option to leave is still there, because it has always been there, will always be there and he would never hate you for it. And maybe you should. But for once, you don’t want to. Doing what you should do seems too easy… Too boring. The whole night stretches ahead of you, looking like forever compared to the insignificant specks that are the rest of your life and David’s life. You want the forever that is tonight. You don’t think you want to say no.

                And you don’t think you’re going to.

                “Not any time soon.”

                He grins at you, eyes shining, and asks if you’re planning on leaving soon.

                What a coincidence—yes you are. So you might as well split a cab, of course.

                The cab only makes one stop.


End file.
